I stared down the aisle. I could hardly take a step, let alone make it to the altar. And then I saw him, and I knew I had to take the first step. But not because I liked him, my best friend on the other hand was in love with him. So I caught the one tear that fell from my cheek and made my way down the aisle. I stood at the front of the church and smiled like I meant it.
I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t happy. My smile was fake when I did all my duties as maid of honor-dancing with the best man [a pompous prick named Mac], catching the bouquet, and making sure the limo was on time. I faked being happy when I was literally dying inside. My last single friend was single no more.
Some girls spent their entire lives being with one boyfriend after another, some spent their lives with that one special guy, and then some girls, like me, spent their whole entire lives single. And I truly had. When you are about to turn 26 and you have never been in a relationship ever, well you pretty much accept that it is never going to happen. I was fiercely independent and extremely picky, which wasn’t really the recipe for a relationship. I refused to settle, to compromise. And I didn’t. Each year more friends had begun to settle down until finally, today, the last one was married.
Being chronically single, my friends just always thought of me as the single girl. Earlier on, they had tried and tried to set me up with guys but it always failed. So they gave up and accepted that I would always be the wheel-3rd, 5th, 7th, even 9th-it didn’t matter. Besides my love life, everything else was great. I’d finished school, and my career was well on its way. I had a plan. When my career stopped distracting me, I would travel. Not perfect, but it was something. Despite however much I had accepted being forever single, this wedding was still crushing my heart.
The bride and groom had left, but the party was still going strong. I was enjoying champagne straight out of the bottle in the garden outside.
“We aren’t trying to get drunk, are we?”
“Fuck off Mac.” So I had forgotten Mac. He was single too, but hardly a friend.
“Well someone is a little feisty tonight.”
“I’m really not in the mood, okay?”
“Marriage is overrated.” I knew that in his own sick way, he was trying to cheer me up. I think he was trying to convince himself really. After all 34 is getting pretty old, for even a guy. He had already taken the bottle of champagne from me. His hands were all over me. His lips already to the spot on my neck that always, always seemed to make me melt.
“Not tonight Mac, not tonight.” I pushed him away.
A few years back I had lost my virginity to Mac. I couldn’t stand him but he was always around. And even I couldn’t deny how gorgeous he was. I just figured that if I was always going to be single, I might as well lose it to a hottie that wasn’t going to take advantage of me. No one ever really caught on that anything had happened between us. So we let it happen again and again and again. In the years since, we had went home together quite a many times. However, we only really got along in the bedroom. We usually fought the whole way back to his place or mine. But if we made it to the bed in one piece, I couldn’t resist him.
“Please Mag. I don’t have it in me to fight with you tonight.” And so I didn’t. There was no point really. I would have gone with him no matter what.
“Your room or mine.” I laughed. I stood up and pulled him up too. The trouble with destination weddings was the need for massive amounts of hotel rooms.
“I couldn’t care less.” He added, kissing me hard. I was surprised. First kissing my neck, then this. We didn’t even touch each other when we were in public.
“What’s with you tonight?”
“I only know how to do one thing with you, other than fighting.” We made it to his room without being seen.
I always had left his place before the morning. Only couples woke up together. But I made an exception. It was, after all just a hotel room.
“You’re still here?” He asked surprised when he woke up.
“I am. There is just a lonely hotel bed waiting for me.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Me waking up here doesn’t mean anything.”
“Am I not allowed to tell you that you’re pretty?”
“Nope. Definitely not.”
“Well excuse me. I didn’t realize that we had rules to hooking up now.”
“I’m going now.” I said kissing his cheek. He knew better than to argue with me. And I wasn’t one to stick around.
“Goodbye Mag.”
I went to my room, took a shower, and packed up my stuff. Okay, maybe sleeping with Mac is incredibly shallow. And I know that it really doesn’t solve anything. But sometimes, well a lot of times, it just happened, and I was okay with that.
I caught my flight home. The next day I went back to work and put the wedding behind me.
….too be continued…..
My hands tied up above my head. My tippy toes just barely reaching the box I am standing on. A rope tied around my neck. In the closet, blindfolded and scared.
